


Great Minds Think Alike (And Fools Seldom Differ)

by cauldronofdoom



Series: Living with the Mob [3]
Category: The Avengers (2012)
Genre: M/M, bad week, paper aniversary
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-22
Updated: 2012-08-22
Packaged: 2017-11-12 16:29:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,994
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/493311
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cauldronofdoom/pseuds/cauldronofdoom
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They have different plans, but they turn out to not be so different after all.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Great Minds Think Alike (And Fools Seldom Differ)

“So!” Jan chirped, hopping up onto Tony’s desk. “What are your plans for next weekend?”

Tony shot her an incredulous look. “You do know who you’re asking, right?” He asked, and she nodded. “I mean, all I ever do on weekends all year work! Eye in the sky at Logan’s casino, plus both his and Mrs. Parker’s bars, help Maria with staff organizations for the next week, and do a full check on as many of the comms as I can get my hands on. Oh, that reminds me, can you tell Darcy to bring her Taser over sometime? She’s supposed to show up at the bar tonight. And since you’re here, you may as well hand over your dart launchers for a check.” He held his hand out, already forgetting about the question Jan had posed.

Tash, sitting next to him exchanged a significant glance with the other woman. Tony suddenly felt very young and very stupid, two things he’d never felt before getting to know these rather terrifying females, even though Jan was sweet and he vaguely remembered knowing her from before. 

“He knows.” Tash said, her voice slow in a way that meant she was thinking hard. “He said it himself. But he doesn’t know.” He had the feeling her thoughts were centered around him being stupid. It was always a good bet with Tash.

Jan took pity on him, because she was a nice person. “Tony, you said ‘all year’.” She informed him, speaking as if to a small child. Tony didn’t need that tone. She was not a nice person. “How do you not know the significance of that?”

“What signif… Oh.” He sat back in his chair, blinking. “Oh, I see. I only distantly noted the date, you know. I’d had a tough week, and then I was up all night working on the Avengers thing. Plus, it’s not like the date ever makes any difference to me, here. I think the last time I cared about the actual date was when I got that surprise party for my birthday last month.” It was Monday now. Sunday would be his one year anniversary with both the HC and with Steve, though it had been just about sex in those first days. 

Tash smirked, and Jan beamed. “So I repeat, what are you going to be doing this weekend?” 

“I’m not sure.” He told her, glancing only occasionally at the assassin. He figured Jan would be a better advisor on relationship issues, no offence to Tash. It’s just… her last relationship had been Bucky Barnes, and from what he’d heard, their idea of a date had been sniping known members of other gangs and mobs with a paintball gun from rooftops. “What do you suggest?”

“There’s a big home game this weekend.” She offered. “You know how much our Captain loves baseball. I think he’d like that.”

Tony looked immediately to Tash for permission. “Am I allowed to leave?” He queried, both excited and nervous at the idea. He’d been outside twice in the last year, and one of those was a kidnapping. 

Tash looked thoughtful. “It should be doable, as long as you don’t spend too much time out of the crowd. And we’ll have to paint your face with team colours.” She gave him a wry grin. “Normally I wouldn’t insist on that, but they’ll bring you up just because it’s been a full year on the news closer to the weekend. And you’ll need new ID, just in case.” She bit her lip, trying to think of any other precautions to take. “That should be safe. I’ll talk to Phil. We can probably keep your first name, if you’d prefer?” Tony nodded. “But not your last. Any ideas what you’d like?”

“Make it just plain ‘Tony’ for my first name. And as for the last…” He trailed off, not quite sure how to phrase the idea he’d just gotten.

“Ah.” Was all Tash said, shooting him a secretive and pleased little smile. “We can do that.”  
*  
It had been one of those weeks that every professional in the world knew, the weeks where nothing went right and he had to fix every little thing. Pietro had fallen down a staircase and broken his leg, for example. That meant Banner had to run over there and set it, with Van Dyne as his assistant. They’d left, in their hurry, a jar of the nerve toxin Jan’s special darts used to paralyze open. Hence how they’d learned that Barton was allergic to the smell. It wasn’t serious, but Barton was supposed to be overseeing an op. Steve’d had to send Hill instead.

Hill hadn’t had a problem, but Hardy had gotten herself into another scrape and without anyone keeping an eye on personnel assignments, Mockingbird, Thunderer, Vision, Jewel, Spiderwoman, Captain Marvel, and Silver Surfer had all gone to assist. They’d gotten in each other’s way, not all being on the same comm channel, and had only been saved by Scarlet Witch managing to hide them in various locations in her shop. Then they’d all had to stay hidden during a séance with a particularly chatty group of young women. When Wanda had tried to kick them out after the hour they’d paid for, they’d been having so much fun they’d offered double if they could keep doing readings and vision quests for the next hour. And the next. Finally she’d had to beg off with exhaustion, saying that being a spiritual bridge took much of her energy, and that she’d was about to collapse. 

Meanwhile, none of them had been able to talk on their comms without alerting the girls or to go to the washroom.

Thor had apparently almost pissed himself. 

Lewis had gone to the bar with the other political sciences students (Dr. Foster’s stuff was unknown enough that she’d accepted the only applicant for her undergrad helper, and Lewis didn’t know anything about the hard sciences) and someone had tried to spike her drink. He’d had to send T’challa to make sure she’d be able to get back safe without blowing her cover. T’challa whom Steve hated sending on missions because he actually was an African prince, though the American government refused to acknowledge them as a sovereign nation because then they’d have to actually pay fair prices for Wakandan natural resources. So T’challa was here as their proxy while Steve sold their goods on the black market. 

Then Sam (a social worker, but he knew which way the winds blew and passed information to Steve in exchange for protection for his people, even from their own families if necessary) had called, letting Steve know that some of the kids he mentored weren’t listening and were planning on taking out their frustrations on people and buildings in his territory.

Wolverine, Power Man, Iron Fist, Goliath, and Sentry would scare those kids back to the right side of the law by pretending to be street-level thugs out to recruit, but it left more seconds in charge. That meant Steve was fielding calls from them all night, either giving orders or receiving reports. He let Cage and Logan run their operations autonomously most of the time, but he just wanted to keep an eye on their seconds, especially with them ruling over depleted houses themselves.

And that was just yesterday.

He’d dropped into his bed the moment both Hill and Romanov returned, ordering Coulson to get some sleep himself as well. They were going to have a depleted day shift now, too. At least it was Sunday.

Tony’d been keeping an eye on various enemy agents and associations, and Steve hadn’t even noticed him coming to bed, though he was sure he must have. There was an indent on the pillow next to him, at least. 

Steve dashed sleep from his eyes and considered lying back down for a nap. Never mind that he’d just woken up, he was tired.

“You look like you could use some more sleep.” Tony said from the doorway, and Steve looked up and froze. Tony smirked. “I could always take Clint with me to the game, I guess.” He drawled, tapping something against his lip.

Steve was willing to bet those were tickets. Tony was wearing his home jersey for his favourite baseball team, and someone (Natasha, probably) had painted his face to match. The outfit was completed with jeans and a ball cap. “We’re going to the game?” He asked, not quite awake enough for this.

Tony shrugged nonchalantly, but Steve could see the slight tension bleed into his shoulders. “If you’d like, yeah. Tash would probably kill me if I didn’t go now, so…” He shrugged again, repeating the gesture in nervousness. “You don’t have to come, if you’re tired or whatever…”

Steve cut him off before he could continue to ramble, throwing the sheets off so he could stand and stretch. He grinned at the glazed look on Tony’s face and stepped closer, fisting his hands in the jersey. He hadn’t made it under the sheets last night (further proof that Tony had come to bed), nor had he even managed to pull on his normal sleepwear (he had to be ready for business at any hour. Sweats weren’t really mission wear, but it meant he could run off to help without worrying about a public indecency charge) so he was in just his boxers. He tugged Tony closer, then slipped his hands up to tug gently on the collar. “How much trouble,” He breathed in Tony’s ear, prompting shivers, “Will I be in if I tug my shirt over your head, toss you on the bed, and put you through the floor?”

Tony wasn’t much of a sports fan. He’d watch some football if it was on, and occasionally sit down for a baseball game with Steve. He almost always started designing something on a napkin halfway through, though. Steve figured it came from graduating three years early. He’d at least had Bucky, and his small size didn’t mean they couldn’t play catch or visit batting cages. To see Tony dressed in his sports memorabilia, painted up to cheer for his team, made a possessiveness swell up in him that was to Tony wearing his usual shirts normally what a bubbling brook was to a rushing river. 

“None… Ah! None from me.” Tony assured him, tilting his head so Steve could nip at the pressure point behind the ear. “Tash and Jan, though… And Maria says you should have a day off. Yesterday was awful, so your second, right hand, and left hand are all in agreement that you need a breather. Nothing’s planned for today, everything’s been shifted to either last week or next week. They can handle it.” Tony assured him, despite Steve trying to distract him.

He grinned. This was really important to Tony for some reason. “Of course I’ll go with you, Tony.” He pulled away, and Tony whined and followed. Steve laughed, then pushed him towards the door. “You head upstairs. I need to shower, and if I see you and a bed together again before we leave there’s no hope for us making first pitch.”

He grabbed his towel and some clothes, careful to match Tony with the away jersey, and headed to the showers, mulling it over in his sleep and lust-fogged brain. Tony’d been here a year, and this was the first time anything like this had happened…

His spine straightened and his eyes flew open, a reaction he regretted as soon as the shampoo suds hit his eyeballs. He rinsed his hair, then carefully washed his eyes while he thought about it. Tony had been here a year. As of today, exactly a year. Steve had been wracking his brain for some way to celebrate until things had all gone to shit earlier this week. 

It looked like Tony had managed to pick up the slack, though, and Steve found even that thought disgustingly sappy at the moment. They were working together like a well-oiled machine. He did have the latest tablet that Tony had fallen for hidden somewhere by Natasha, as well as something else…

He’d have to see how the day went, for both surprises. He did detour back to his room quickly before heading upstairs, though.  
*  
It had only taken Tash minutes to paint Steve’s face, which Tony took as proof that keeping him in the chair and motionless for a half-hour was just torture. 

Now they were at the field, and Tony was so, so happy he’d taken Jan’s suggestion and done this. Steve had looked awful the previous night, passed out on the bed in nothing but his boxers. There were circles under his eyes and frown lines seemed permanently etched on his brow. Tony had pulled the blankets over them, then smoothed out Steve’s forehead with gentle fingers. He had taken a moment to really look at the man he loved, and had been surprised to note the laugh-lines showing at the corners of his eyes and the faint creases of both smiles and frowns lingering next to his mouth. Tony had kissed them, reminded that Steve was five years older than him, already in his thirties. Though his genes would help him look young for a while yet (he still looked like a kid if you were more than five feet from him), the life they were in didn’t lend itself to long lifespans. Accident, stress, sickness, or something like dementia would get everyone, but mobsters sooner than most. 

He was very happy he’d done all he’d done. He slipped his hand into Steve’s, and Steve turned to smile at him, the biggest one even Tony’d seen for weeks. He couldn’t resist leaning in to taste that joy, and Steve responded enthusiastically. They had hot dogs and nachos and pop and everything was wonderful and nothing hurt. There was no tension in Steve’s shoulders, no desperation in his grip, no worry in his eyes. 

He cuddled up to Steve shamelessly, unconcerned what anyone else thought. Steve snuggled him under one of his arms. Tony got jostled every time something interesting happened, but it was worth it to watch the way Steve cavorted and danced like a kid getting a present whenever his team scored. One asshole had tried yelling his narrow-minded view at them. Tony had yelled that it didn’t matter who he was fucking, because it wasn’t going to be that guy any time in this life. Steve had moved slightly to protect him, but the man hadn’t even gotten a chance to move before he’d been surrounded by six massive men and a handful of tough looking women. He’d almost pissed himself as they escorted him away.

Tony was surprised as they were quickly engulfed in the group that appeared to have come with the bruisers that so terrified the other man. Apparently they were one of the homosexual acceptance lobbies Steve just nodded and offered the woman talking with them some nachos.

It was nice, talking to them. Steve told them he was an apartment manager, and that Tony was a computer programmer. One, obviously just as enthused by computers as Tony, quickly engaged him in a lively discussion about different programming languages and styles. Even when Tony was turned away and deep in conversation and Steve was standing and cheering, they always kept at least their hands tangled.

“Dude, what’s the big deal?” Tony’s new friend had laughed at one point, directing his query at Steve. “I promise you, I’m not trying to steal your boyfriend.”

Steve had just given him a slow, smug smile. “I know.” Then he’d pulled Tony’s hand up and pressed a kiss to his palm. “It’s our anniversary, though.”

That had prompted just as much cheering, as well as a round or celebratory nachos to share.  
*  
“We’re going to the bar. You guys wanna come with?” One of the guys asked, and Steve shook his head.

“No, we should be going. We have plans…” He was cut off by Tony, who clapped a hand over his mouth and grinned. 

“Tell me where you’ll be, and I’ll see about convincing this guy to come.” He leered outrageously, leaving no doubt what he meant, and the others laughed. Information on the name and location was quickly exchanged, then Steve waved them off with Tony still tucked under his arm. 

“Tony.” He sighed with exasperation. “I have duties that I can’t just ignore…”

“Call them.” Tony broke in, face set and stubborn. He tugged Steve towards a quiet alcove. “Call them. You know Tash will tell you the truth, just ask her if we need to be back. And it’s not like you don’t have your cell. We don’t have to drink, just have one and mingle. I know you were enjoying just talking to people and not having to be the boss.” He stroked one hand over Steve’s face, and Steve felt himself giving in. “It’s just one day. You can take one day and just be happy.”

He caught Tony’s hands and kissed them. “You make me happy.” He insisted. “And, well, it’s just that I sort of had other plans for tonight.”

Tony’s eyes lit up at that. “Why didn’t you say so?” He looked around, and Steve could see him thinking.

“Tony, no.” He said, though he knew he’d fold like a piece of paper if Tony pushed. “Not here, and that’s not really…”

“Oh, hush!” Tony insisted, leaning in to kiss him. “You love this place. I saw that breath you took when we first got here. You love this place, and you love the smells and the sounds, and you love me. It’s an awesome idea.” He tugged Steve along the wall until they got to a locked door with a DO NOT ENTER sign on it. Tony listened against it, then grinned. “Boiler room. No one’ll come here.” He had a drivers licence out and was fiddling with the lock. Steve’s eyes skimmed it out of habit, then shot back just as Tony hissed in triumph and looked around. 

Tony opened the door and pulled Steve through, so a dim part of his mind recognized that probably no one was looking. Most of him was still focussed on what he’d seen. Tony went to slip his new licence back in his pocket, but Steve found himself with Tony’s wrists in his hands before he could complete the motion. 

“Steve?” Tony asked, perplexed and slightly concerned. Steve had no idea what his face looked like to cause that tone, but he didn’t really care.

“What’s this?” He asked, lifting his left hand and Tony’s right to their eye level, even though neither were looking at what he was holding. Steve was staring at Tony, and Tony was staring at the wall off to the side. 

“It’s, well, um… It was just this idea I had… I can get a new one, if you… well… I mean, I guess I should have talked to you first, but it seemed like a good surprise? It’s not like I can just go shopping, and, yeah, just a whim? I’ll get it changed, talk to Phil soon as we get back…” Steve cut him off with a low growl, which Tony seemed to misinterpret as badly as he had Steve’s question, if the nervous flinch was anything to go by. He quickly pushed forward, crowding the smaller man against the wall and kissing him roughly. He shoved his tongue into Tony’s mouth, demanding surrender which Tony willingly gave, going pliant against his body.

Something struck the ground, and Steve knew it was what Tony had been holding. He pulled back, leaving Tony leaning against the wall and panting. He looked like something out of a wet dream, and Steve felt himself shiver. This, Tony, was his. “Pick it up.” He ordered, and Tony blinked slowly before obeying. Steve ran one hand through his hair and shoved the other in his pocket, then gave in and tangled his fingers with Tony’s as the smaller man straightened. 

“Sorry, sorry, didn’t mean to worry you.” He breathed as he pushed himself back into Tony’s space and nuzzled his temple. “It’s just… I didn’t expect… Oh, Tony! How could you even think I wouldn’t like this?” He dropped his head and kissed the small piece of plastic that proclaimed, to everyone who saw it, that the owner was one Tony Rogers. “That you’d want that… That you’d just do that… Ah, Tony, you know I’m yours, but I don’t think you understand just what it means to know you’d declare yourself mine like this.”

“Oh, I think I have an idea.” Tony laughed breathlessly as Steve slid the card back into the back pocket of Tony’s jeans, groping him firmly as he did so. “Am I getting laid? Because that would be awesome. I’ve missed being put through the mattress.” It was a teasing tone, but obviously the truth. And what could Steve say to that? Tony knew how the week had gone, hadn’t seemed too concerned by Steve falling asleep before anything interesting could happen at night. Even when waking up, Steve had had to run out after only getting Tony naked and his own t-shirt off when Hydra had lit Logan’s bar on fire on Wednesday.

The floor here was cement, covered in dirt and scattered with little bits of machinery like screws and springs. No way he was putting any part of Tony directly on that, and there wasn’t a great deal of manoeuvering space in the small room. There really was only one option.

“Turn around.” 

Tony obeyed, as Steve knew he would, bracing both hands on the wall as he did so. Then it was his turn to pause. “Steve?”

He leaned in to nip at Tony’s neck and lifted his left hand to tangle with Tony’s while the right slid around to his stomach. “I was going to do it properly, but fair’s fair. You took my name without asking,” He pulled Tony’s hand from the wall to kiss the metal band now adorning it. “I’ll take your hand the same way.”

Tony was silent for a moment. “You won’t ask?” He questioned hesitantly, ducking his head shyly.

“I asked you a year ago if you’d be willing to join your fortune and life to mine, and you said yes then.” Steve reminded him, gently teasing. Tony gave his head a shake, then shrugged. “Oh, fine.” He grouched playfully, nipping at Tony’s jaw. “Anthony Edward Stark, despite the fact that I can’t offer you a real wedding in a church, I would very much appreciate it if you would accept my heart, mind, body, and soul anyways. That you will stand by me, aid me, allow me to aid you, and promise to visit me in jail if they ever make me, as I promise I’d do for you. Will you do that? Be mine, in the eyes of every authority we agree to recognize?”

Tony dropped his head back onto Steve’s shoulder and moved a hand to pull him into a kiss. “Of course I will. You only ever had to ask.”  
*  
Tony’s heart was going a mile a minute after Steve’s proposal and there really wasn’t anything he could do but kiss the man. 

Then his ears finally figured out what that strange buzzing noise was and he laughed into the kiss. 

“What’s so funny?” Steve asked, nipping at the tip of Tony’s nose. Tony nodded to the grate just above his head.

“Ventilation. Apparently it connects to the dressing rooms, or at least one of them.” They were silent for a moment before Steve grinned. The slightly tinny sound of what Tony assumed was a team manager’s voice cut off the low buzz of casual conversation they’d been listening too. Between showers, interviews, and team meetings, the players would be here for a little while yet.

“Well, you’ll just have to be quiet, then.” Steve said, biting gently down on a spot that had been a favourite for hickies ever since that first day a year ago and pushing him into the wall again. Tony remembered this, the heat and the words, the bites, remembered knowing nothing but a voice that was sex personified and hands capable of breaking him, though they only stroked. Remembered the cool feel of a gun in those first few moments, pulling him from sleep and getting his blood pumping. Remembered being asked about his tags, deciding without meaning to during that question to take things as far as the presence behind him would let it go.

He shivered and panted, remembering meeting Steve.

Hands rough with eagerness tore at his pants, somehow managing to open them without breaking anything. One hand pushed at the fabric, lowering it just enough for his cock to spring free and a breeze to ghost over his ass. He could feel the hem of his oversized jersey brushing the tops of his thighs and hear another zipper lowering. He groaned when both hands came back and kneaded at his asscheeks, one big, warm hand for each.

“Shush.” Steve admonished lowly, biting harder at the mark that was probably already blooming into a bright red bruise. Tony whimpered softly, doing his best to keep those sounds in. “Open” He obeyed blindly, only for Steve to stick his fingers in Tony’s mouth, just like he had the first time.

This… This was… They never did this, not without real lube. Not since the first time, when Tony’d still been maybe a little too tight and had been sore afterwards. Steve never fucked him when he was sore, did his best not to make Tony sore except on those occasions when things were calm enough for them to play the really rough games. They did other things, instead, if they weren’t prepared. There were lots of very fun things that didn’t involve this sort of penetration.

Tony moaned around the fingers, flicking his tongue to make sure they were fully covered down to the last knuckle. He could feel Steve panting in his ears, whispering all sorts of dirty promises and sweet nothings. 

Steve pulled his fingers out and Tony laid his head against the brick wall and gasped. He felt them again, probing around his hole and teasing him. He bit back a curse and arched into the feeling, trying to hurry Steve up. He heard a low chuckle in his ear before the taller man complied with his mute commands. One finger slipped into him, gentle and demanding all at once. 

His breaths were nothing but short pants. He tried to keep them quiet, to be nothing but breaths, but it was hard, both to do and to remember. The second finger prodded gently before slipping inside as well and he had to bite his lip to keep from begging Steve for more.

“I’ve got you. Just a bit more. Then I’ll slide in. I’ll fill you right up, to where you feel like you can’t breathe. Push into you until you’re flat against the wall, rutting there, pressed right into it so there’ll be lines on your skin from the bricks.” Steve matched words to actions just a moment later, and Tony was helpless against a low, keening whine as Steve slid in. It was just this side of painful and too fast, and was ultimately perfect. His stomach felt hot and heavy to match the feel of both of their cocks, Tony’s pressed against the wall and Steve’s filling up his ass. 

He shifted his hips, trying hard to get some sort of rhythm going and relieve some of the pressure on his dick. He needed something…

Steve slid halfway out, then surged back in. Tony, who had drawn away from the wall in the vague hope he’d be able to slip a hand lower, found himself almost slammed into the cool cement as snapping hips and powerful thighs drove him back to the only thing he had to brace against. 

He lost track of time somewhere in there, lost his head over the feel of powerful thrusts, filling heat, the cool of the wall, the warmth of a chest, and the satiny material of the jersey protecting his erection from the rough edges of the wall that not even a few coats of paint could fill in. 

He came untouched, Steve following suit moments later while biting at his neck. Yet another similarity with the previous year. Maybe he could suggest this be their tradition. The languid kisses that followed, however, were a definite improvement over being blindfolded and marched through half the city. He’d call this one even, despite knowing Steve had been much gentler and he wouldn’t feel it like he had before. 

Eventually they pulled themselves together enough to clean up. Steve found a box with toilet paper, which they used to clean up. There was a trash can in the corner, so at least they didn’t have to take the soiled wads out with them. Steve was wavering between lustful and possessive contentedness and a collector’s freakout over the damp spot on the front of Tony’s jersey, but Tony just laughed at him. The expression on his face was priceless. 

Tony checked his phone as well when Steve pulled his out, and grinned to find a text from Clint. If you’re caught, remember that your one call is to Maria.

He showed it to Steve, who also laughed. He’d obviously gotten a text too, considering the amount of time he spent looking at his, but he refused to tell Tony what it was about.

“It’s a surprise,” He said. “I told you I had other plans, remember?”

Tony just rolled his eyes as they snuck out. His plan had been a success. Now to see what Steve had come up with.


End file.
